Blog #3 The Wave that Almost Put Me Out by Toni MIchael

Last semester I took Creative Nonfiction. It proved to be the most difficult class I have yet to take. Granted it had been a tough year. Since I teach I view my life in semesters. So first semester from August to December, I lost a very dear friend, Brenda Kramer, to cancer. Brenda was a gifted nurse. She and I had been on several mission trips to La Ceiba, Honduras together. In May of last year, Brenda was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and was dead by December 2. The rapidity of her physical deterioration was faster than my emotions could keep up with. At that point, I was taking Creative Writing. Beyond a doubt, the writing for that class enabled me to escape into my imagination and find a harbor that gave temporary shelter from the storm of pain.
For some crazy reason I expected the Creative Nonfiction class I was in second semester to do the same thing for me. What was I thinking? In January, my mother, who had lived with me and my family informed me that she was moving back to Florida. She is eighty-two years old and still has an indomitable will. My mother has always believed that the world must bend to her will. Her departure and the Creative Nonfiction class I was in signaled a personal exploration that was like diving into the deep end of the ocean. At various points I knew that my writing was going to die. In many ways I had taken the stories of my mother’s and my life and combined them in both fiction and nonfiction writing. However, as I came across the hurt and the pain of our relationship, I could not write my way out of it. This was very serious since I had based my final project for the class on of all things, my mother. I began to question whether I wanted to write at all, and if so, what genre would I write in?
The only thing I could do was write and rewrite, which is what I did. You can imagine my elation when I went to register and saw the class, Beach Reading for Writers. I believe my head is just coming out from under the deep end of the ocean. So now back to the question of what genre do you want to write in? I am waiting for that to be revealed. In the meantime I will just keep writing.

Blog 3 aka Yappy Dog Waves and Me by Danielle Swanson

"Jefferson answered, 'My dear, we all throw water at the ocean. Some of us think it is very serious business,'"(McClure 142).

I love literature. I read all the time, every day. I read to my children. I make my students read, and I whine when they don't. But somehow, despite my love of literature, writing my own book seems to take a backseat to everything. Somehow, my writing ranks lower on the totem pole than all of the other daily stuff I have to do including laundry, toilet scrubbing and grocery shopping. I feel like I need one of those bumper stickers for my car that says, "I'd rather be writing."
I don't know that my writing has ever been hit by one big wave; I'm not even sure I've ever capsized. Instead, little yappy dog waves continously nip on my writing, causing me to have a series of starts and stops that sometimes leave me feeling like I'm pushing against an undefeatable current. I'll be going along steady when something will happen to make me stop. It doesn't have to be something big, but in the past, new jobs, too much homework, or a busy football season have all come between me and my writing.
Never have I completely stopped writing; however, there have been times where writing what I wanted seemed like a very silly idea. "Who," I would wonder, "wants to read this?" The summer after my husband left and I quit my job, I wrote 180 pages. When I reread it, I decided it was all crap. There were gaping plot holes, and the characters all seemed flat. I trashed it and decided to start something new. But I didn't stop writing.
When I was working at the paper, I was writing everyday. As much as I love writing fiction, it's hard to come home after working forty hours a week writing stories and pull out the keyboard to start typing. It's even harder with kids who want to see their mother every now and then. Instead, I created stories in my head and hoped someday I would have the time to pen them.
As a student, I have been forced to make that time, to overcome the waves. Sometimes I still feel like I am rowing in an opposing current, but every once in a while, I will catch the warm waters of the Gulf Stream and drift just a bit closer to my destination. I love these moments. They are the times I know that I am not just throwing water at the ocean but actually doing some serious business.

Blog #3 Melissa Davis

My wave didn’t come all at once, but in small, less devastating currents. Growing up as an only child, I felt loved and cherished. I felt I could accomplish anything, be anything I wanted. Even then I wrote stories and they were loved by my family and friends. In 8th grade, my world was turned upside down when my family when through a shocking financial loss. My father lost his job, we lost the house, I lost my friends, and we moved to the other side of the state. I can remember the arguments between my parents, the rice and soda cracker dinners, and the repo men coming to the door to take the car or truck and my father bargaining one more week. My mother got a job at a local private school and I, through tuition assistance, was allowed to go as well. This school was for privilege, wealthy students. I was no longer one of them and it showed. I never fit in; most of the students and faculty ignored me or wrote me off. My grades and education suffered and I stopped writing. My self-confidence took a nose-dive. I felt very inadequate and lost my ability to imagine a good story.
After high school, college opened my imagination up again with its diverse classmates and teachers. I began writing again. I found a wonderful man and we started dating. He was a writer and we reveled in our intelligence. Unfortunately, he decided (and I let him) that he was much more intelligent than I was and felt compelled to tell me this over and over. He belittled my work, my confidence bottomed out, and I gave up writing, again.
I moved to Atlanta and finished college. I began working at Barnes and Noble and was suddenly surrounded by books and writers. I found some of my confidence and began writing. Many of the booksellers were wannabe writers and we would frequently share work. I began to see a writing career in my future again, this time in young adult literature. I met another man, this one I married. He was the exact opposite from the previous relationship and I felt that I could explore my imagination and be again who or what I wanted to be. But, apparently I made another bad choice, and again my work and my self-confidence took a hit. After four years of marriage, two miscarriages, and one affair (his not mine), I was suddenly divorced and alone.
I was teaching middle school at this time, and through my students, I finally regained my ability and my drive to write. Modeling writing is one of the best ways to teach writing and I embraced it. I shared my stories with the students and found that not only did their writing improve, but so did mine. My students have inspired me to find the inner writer and do what I know I should do – be a writer.

Interesting story

Hey all - watched this story of a 16 year old girl who was sailing around the world unfold. She was adrift and lost in the Indian Ocean, but they found her. Since we are discussing Tori McCLure's book of her sailing adventure, I thought it might be a interesting article as well. Enjoy!

http://www.comcast.net/articles/news-general/20100611/Lost.Sailor.Found/?cid=hero_mainlink

Blog # 3- Kristi DeMeester

**I would like to preface this story by explaining that this is the story that I have not exactly told in its entirety yet. It has been to difficult to face, too horrifying to relate, and honestly, much of the story is still too difficult to talk about, but this is some of it., and you guys are the first.**

When I was very young, so young I cannot remember how old I actually was, my father made the decision that his family should be members of a Pentecostal church in Lithia Springs, Georgia. My mother still talks about how shocked she was by his desire to join this church since neither of them were religious, but the decision was made, and Pentecostals we became. Thinking back on my childhood, being a member of this church is all I can remember, or perhaps it would be better stated that I can remember is the rules of being a member of the Pentecostal church. By following the rules, my family could not own a television set, could not attend any movie or non-sanctioned theater production, could not listen to secular music, could not read non-approved books, and could not own or use a computer. Families with children were strongly discouraged from sending the kids to public school; therefore, most of the children attended the church’s small private school. The only world news we received was usually found on the airwaves of a local Christian radio station. As a female, I was not allowed to cut my hair or wear makeup or jewelry. Pants were forbidden, and the mandatory skirts had to fall below the knee. Reasoning for these rules all pointed towards the possibilities of vanity and drawing lewd attention to oneself. Males could not wear their hair long since that was meant to be feminine.
I loved to read and write as a child and was convinced I was going to be the youngest writer ever published. I kept a secret diary and forbidden book stash in my closet. I’ll never forget the day my father found those items. It was August 18, 1994; I remember the date because it was two days before my birthday. I remember him calling me into my bedroom and closing the door, his belt open in his hand. I’ll never forget his words, “What is this crap you have here, Kristi? You think you won’t go to hell for writing this smut? You think God will be happy that you are writing about things that won’t please him? Don’t you think if he wanted you to do stuff like that, he would have given you the talent? Bend over.” He left the belt open. There is a faint scar on my lower back where the buckle caught flesh. I vowed to never write or read again.

I grew up in the Pentecostal church and the school without ever questioning the reasoning behind such stringency, but things at home were not going well. My father had always been a frightening man, but as the years marched on, things became much worse. After years of quiet, and then not so quiet abuse, my mother gathered the courage to leave my father. The two years that followed were a terrifying roller coaster for both ten year old me and my seven year old brother. My father stalked my mother, brother, and I, frequently showing up at our home late at night. On one evening, he broke down the door and threw my mother threw a glass table while my brother and I watched. He pushed me and my brother to the floor while laughing at our weakness. Similar to Murden McClure, I have been angry for years at my helplessness. That I could do nothing to stop a six foot four man from hurting my family.

After restraining orders, secretive moves, and an unlisted phone number, we began to piece our lives back together, but then my brother and I faced attending a public school where I found makeup, cut hair/pants on girls, cursing, television, computers, and the list went on and on. When I search for a word to describe my life between ten and twelve, I come back to trauma. Everything was new and intimidating, and the fear of my father still lurked in every corner. I offer gratitude to Mrs. Puckett, my sixth grade language arts teacher, for re-teaching me the glory of reading and forcing me to write at least a page a day in my classroom journal. I don’t think she ever really understood my hesitancy, but she did understand my joy.

But I grew, and now with time and experience, I can appreciate these things. It’s going to make a heck of a book if I can ever gather the courage to tell the whole story. (More than likely it will be a fictionalized rendition.)

Blog 3 - Kathleen - Waves of Emotion

When writer Laurie Colwin died of a heart attack in 1992 at the age of 48, I was as crushed as if she had been a friend of mine. I loved her essays, short stories, and novels! Her last, posthumously published book was entitled "A Big Storm Knocked it Over."

For me, the big storm that altered life as I knew it, that wave that almost took me out, was the birth of my son Ben.

For your sake as well as Ben's, I'll try to be quick about this story, but still give you the full picture. Here goes:

A young woman loves literature and dreams of writing it. She has a job as a Creative Director and copywriter and she publishes a few magazine articles and essays. She gets married (finally!) and gets pregnant. And then the storm clouds gather.

A sonogram shows that the baby isn't measuring up properly. Down syndrome? Amnio says no. Dwarfism? Doctors say maybe. They can tell her that something isn't right, but they can't determine what and why. Mom has to go to bed for six weeks because the baby keeps trying to be born. One day he isn't moving. Emergency C-section. Apgar score is 4 (out of a possible 10). Baby is not a dwarf, but he has an enlarged liver and heart, hypoglycemia, polycythemia, dangerously low platelet count. Situation described as grim. In intensive care for three weeks, but pulls through and comes home on Thanksgiving Day. Joy. Apprehension. Baby cries and screams a lot. Can't breastfeed, can't swallow from the bottle very well.

The water gets really rough. Developmental delays, sensory integration disorder, perseveration, low muscle tone, auditory processing problems, ADHD, social issues, emotional lability, more screaming, etc., etc., etc. He does not receive a diagnosis of autism (perhaps his doctors were afraid that his mother would completely disintegrate if they used that word), but he has several of the characteristics. Baby sister is born. Beloved father/grandfather dies.

I think it goes without saying that I quit getting much writing done, just freelance writing for nonprofit organizations in order to make some money. Some days I barely got any breathing done. Some days I was drowning.

But bit by bit, year by year, the sun came out. Ben is now 21 - and he is wonderful. He can't do complex math, doesn't drive, and struggles to write a paper without help. But he is kind and helpful, loving and loyal, passionate about fitness and sports, history and Greek mythology. His glass is always half full. He has a high emotional IQ, is empathetic and spiritual. He is a student at Chattahoochee Tech and a collegiate athlete, running on Chatt Tech's cross country and track teams. He is an advisor for our church's youth group, works two days a week on an organic farm, and aspires to be a personal trainer.

How did I overcome this obstacle to my writing life? Love, patience, and the passage of time. Therapy (for both of us). Medication (for both of us). Prayer. The advice of experts and the kindness of strangers: all sorts of people threw us lifelines.

When Ben graduated from high school a couple of years ago, I gave myself permission to resume my quest to be a writer of literature and entered the MAPW program. Sometimes I panic believing that it is too late for me to write anything significant, but sometimes I think I can still do it. I'll have to admit that, because of what I have been through, at times I feel like a burned-out case.

But mostly I am grateful. I know that I am a far better person than I was before Ben Lewis came into my life. And I am blessed to have him and his unsinkable spirit to inspire me every day for the rest of my life.

Blog 1 - Barbara Cramer (Reed)

Hi, I'm your antiquated nontraditional writer-friend-classmate, formerly known as Barbara Reed and currently parading as Barbara Cramer. I use computers but I prefer the 88 keys of a piano to the computer keyboard.

I love to write, talk, research, play the piano, gab, discuss, revise, and generally make a mess of things. I can comment and edit in my sleep, just about, and some say I can befriend a telephone post. I wouldn't go that far, but I do like to communicate, get help, and proffer help when I can.

I'm looking forward to a productive eight weeks!

Barbara's Three Writing Friends

I have three friends for writing: reading, observing, and thinking. Lately I've been swimming in magnificent reading, not only for this course, but also for my directed study course, where I'm continuing a nonfiction book. The great biography, superb audio books, and most relevant essays I've read so far cannot but push me over the crest of the wave in the process. Actually, reading amounts to silent listening, and so I listen to brilliant literary minds spin a tale, explain a life, and explain ideas, and the cacophony in my brain that ensues has to result in either a lecture or a piece of writing (which amounts to silent speaking).l

Observing or watching occurs in everyday life with all of my senses. I can watch myself, a friend or a stranger in action--I can also watch my cat, for that matter. And the watching includes more than the visual; it includes touching, hearing, smelling, and tasting. At the same time, all this observing also takes place in the reading that I do, because I get lost int he tale spun by a writer, and I find myself watching a character in a piece of fiction or nonfiction.

Finally, my own thinking, sparked by reading and observation, inevitably either conjures up its own characters or its own conclusions, as inevitably as an avalanche occurs with the right amount of snow, humidity, wind, and vibration. I end up writing in spite of myself because somebody has to put this stuff down on paper. It's exciting!

Blog #2 Brittany Leazer My Three Most Important Writing Habits

Because I have ADHA, most of the time habits don't work for me. But there are three simple habits I have adopted to push my writing forward! These are the three most important things I must do to be productive when writing...

1) Silence Is Golden!!

I must be in a quite place far from distraction. Most of the time I retreat to a hole in the wall, most commonly referred to as my closet. I have a walk-in closet with plenty of room on the floor for a bean bag chair. I also have an electrical socket in there where my computer can be plugged up. (That is very important... Do not adopt a writing spot without an electrical socket! It makes for a very frustrating day!) I shut the door to the closet and block out all of the familiar sounds that echo throughout my house. Including the dog barking, the sound of Sports Center on TV, and the occasional, "Honey, where is the remote." I love it in my closet. I have posted wonderful quotes on the back of the door that help me stay motivated when I want to quit. I encourage everyone to find there closet, go inside, shut the door, and write.

2) Room To Grow
I have found that while I am writing, I NEED SPACE. I need to be able to spread things out. I need to have a few notebooks for scribbling ideas. I need to have a place to put my chips and drink. I need space for reference books. I need space for the rewrite notes. I need enough space to feel like I can move if I need to. I hate feeling claustrophobic. If I feel closed in, my thoughts do too. (I know most of you are thinking, "I think that is a mental problem.") So if you choose a closet to write in, make sure it's a walk-in.

3) Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder!
Sometimes, if I am stuck in the middle of the story, I have to just walk away. I find that writers block can only be cured if I take myself out of the story, and put myself somewhere else to look for inspiration. I have been known to just go on a walk to the nearest store or park and people watch. I am one of those people who just like to observe. Sometimes I see things in people or in their circumstances that help me finish the story. (Yes I know staring is not polite...I am one of those people.)

Books for sale

Hello class! Unfortunately I have to withdraw from this course because I am moving to Kansas next month. I've enjoyed reading everyone's blogs and posts so far. Best of luck to all of you.

I have all of the required books (except the 2nd one) if anyone still needs to purchase them. If so, send me an email to kellimharr@yahoo.com

Take care!

Blog #2 My Writing Friends

Hemingway valued the friends who surrounded him early in his writing life. I am grateful for those who have walked along side me and prodded me to move forward. I needed to know that I should follow this writing thing and that is was purposeful.

I met Anne Richards in the hallway between our offices in the English department of KSU three years ago. Despite the gulf that separated us politically we grew to be friends. I gathered courage early in our friendship to read ask her to read a story I had worked on over 10 years ago and wanted to officially lay it to rest. After I had an expert’s opinion, I could put it away forever because she would confirm that I was not a fiction writer.

She returned my Word document filled with track changes. Instead of the negative comments I expected, I was struck by her emotional response to my story. She told me how it made her feel – how it captivated her. Her final comment made me laugh, “Lisa, you are a story teller but get an editor!” So I did.

My second writing friend is really two separate women. Bending the rules, I will call them a composite character. We will call them Callie Sue. (Callie Brown and Sue Cochran). Graduates of the MAPW program and worked with me as student interns I learned to depend on them to make me look good but never making me feel bad because I was not sure of my grammar. Callie Sue never morphed into “grammar snobs” and belittled my ignorance of everything grammar. They gently pushed me to be more careful when I wrote and be better at placing those pesky semi-colons in just the right places. Old enough to have been their mother (a teenage mother) they gently edited my work with love.

My third writing friend is not a writer at all. I would call Ella my soul-mate, but she has a better soul than I. She is a patient sounding board and sees the better person I want to be. She has always believed in me as a writer and that is every writer needs someone who sees the end result and can help you form the story with as much passion as the writer.

I ask Ella before writing this, why she encouraged me so much she said, “You are most alive when you are writing. You have a purpose in writing. You don’t write to have your name on a book, you write because you want to help people through your writing. You have helped people with your writing.”

My Three Most Important Writing Habits

1) Write as often as possible:
Between work, school, motherhood, and a myriad of other responsibilities, finding time to write is a challenge. Yet writing is more than my dream and my passion – it is essential to my well-being. I’ve discovered that letting more than a few days go by without at least a journal entry leaves me feeling grumpy, discontent, and restless. Once I retreat from the world and write, I emerge invigorated. I’ve found that ideas, inspiration, and energy to write increase when I adhere to a strict schedule of writing every day. Although I’m not always successful at it, I know that this is one habit that can definitely aid my growth as a writer. Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast echoes this idea, and I felt envious of his freedom to write every morning. But I do what I can – keeping a notebook by the bed in case inspiration hits before sleep, sneaking away at work to write the first few lines of a story that is screaming for my attention, and sacrificing sleep if midnight comes and I have not yet had the chance to put words on the page.


2) Finding a Serene Location:

Nature is essential for creating my ideal writing atmosphere. I prefer to write first thing in the morning when my mind is fresh and isn’t bogged down by daily chores and responsibilities. If the weather is nice I sit on my back porch, surrounded by tall and glorious hardwoods, if not, I sit upstairs by the open window where I can see the trees and hear the breeze moving through the leaves and the squirrels chasing each other up, down, and around. Nature soothes me in a way nothing else can, allowing me to let go of any thoughts that could hinder my progress. While I don’t always write outside or by the window, they are my favorite places to write. If I haven’t stayed up late to pound out the words than I am up early, sitting in my pajamas on the back porch with a hot tea and my notebook.

3) Calming the water:

Lastly, clearing my head is a habit I’ve developed that often proves crucial. My mind never seems to rest, all day the thoughts run around like boys chasing girls on the playground. Often when I sit down to write I hear my long to-do list, recent comments on my work, or the words of my professors and advice from textbooks. A few years ago I developed the habit of quieting my mind before writing whether the clanging thoughts and doubts were awake yet or not. I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing and the sounds around me. I do not open them until silence enters. Once it has I set my pen to the page and begin. When I’ve finished one project and have not yet started on another, or I’m having trouble coming up with an idea or inspiration, this habit often leads me to my next story. On many occasions I’ve sat down without any idea of what I would write – story, poem, or essay – and yet after clearing my head the first line comes and then the second follows.

Blog #2 Dina's Writing Habits

Making writing a habit - that alone has been so important to me. Since I do technical writing as my day job and other writing with my classes, I write almost constantly. I have noticed that the more I write (and it doesn't seem to matter if it's creative or technical), the easier the writing flows. I think it's just putting my thoughts into words and moving my fingers on the keyboard that becomes a habit and, like anything done regularly, the sentences flow more quickly and with less effort.

That said, writing something I'm proud of and that I love is still difficult. And there are three things I'm working on making a habit. The first of these is believing in myself. If I sit down and think that all I can write is crap, then I give up and don't get anything accomplished. If I sit down and feel like I can write something that might be good, I get excited and just write. I can't think about what I'm writing, I have to just write and believe that if it's only okay this time, I can make it better as I go. I have to believe I can write something worth reading.

Another thing that helps me is letting myself write for fun. Even though choosing the right words and creating the right image is hard, I have fun coming up with the ideas and getting them on paper. If I let myself have fun with it, I get more pages completed and more involved in the story. If I stress out too much about word choice or whether I put in enough detail, I get far less written. I'm working on just writing, getting it all down on paper, and worrying about the details and the word choice when I'm through.

The last habit I've recently adopted has made a big difference in my confidence. I have too many pieces that I started and quit on because I didn't think they were good enough. My goal now is to finish whatever I start. Following this edict, I finished a novella last year that needs a lot of work, but I'm proud of it. It's the longest piece I've ever written; it's a complete story; and now I'm expanding it into a full-length novel. When that's done, I'll decide if I want to get rid of it or set it aside. When I finished the novella, for the first time, I began to maybe one day I will be able to write the novel that's in me.

Finding these habits has been a process, but each one has made a difference, each one changed how I think about my writing. Writing a novel is no longer an unattainable goal, but a marathon I'm training for. Sure, I'll fall down and come in last sometimes, but one day I hope to win gold!

Blog#2 Samara My Three Writing Habits

I am not the most consistent writer, so I am not sure you can call these habits, but they are what I have used to help me with my writing. To begin with I tend to come up with ideas when I am right about to fall asleep. I have created some amazing stories in my head, and when I wake up in the morning they are GONE! So, I have a notebook and pen that stay next to my bed at all times. This has led to some great ideas for poems and stories.




The next thing that I do is let inspiration strike where it may. In fact the story I am writing currently sprung from seeing someone being pulled over by a cop. I am someone who needs inspiration to write. An idea has to find me and I become excited about it, which in turn spurs on my desire to put words to the page.

The third thing I do as a writer is keep a journal. This is different than my before bed writing notebook. I used to be diligent about keeping a journal, but as of lately it has been focused more around important things happening in my life. However, I have journals that go back to when I was in eighth grade and rereading them gives me tons of ideas for stories.

As I said, I might not be the most diligent writer, but these things have worked for me.

Blog #2 My Three Most Important Writing Friends by Toni Michael

In thinking about my three most important writing friends, I am struck with how isolating writing really is. Writing is characterized by an essential dialectical tension: the need for solitude and the need for collaboration. With that in mind, my three most important writing friends are myself, my husband, and my professors and classmates at KSU. Because writing is such an autonomous vocation, I have come to the realization that I can be a friend to myself or a foe to myself.
It is important for me to be a friend to myself before I can write anything down. I must do the psychological and emotional work of fighting back self-defeating thoughts that attempt to persuade me that writing is not productive work. I have to set aside time so that I can engage in reading and self-reflection. It is imperative for me to have daily times of solitude in which I can create space in my mind so that conscious and unconscious thoughts can process and synthesize what occurred the previous day and integrate the ideas and thoughts that I read. Then I must allow myself to write. Through writing, I work on any number of ideas that manifest themselves in story form, ideas which I have to share with my husband.
Whether I am in the middle of processing a thought or I have just complete a piece, my husband, Greg, will listen to my sometimes lengthy pontifications or read my writing. He not only encourages me, but he will also point out any ideas or story problems that do not connect. Greg is a constant source of feedback; however, there are times when I have suspected that he looks at my writing through rose colored glasses, which is why I appreciate the professors and my classmates at KSU.
Even though the writing community in the MAPW classes is a construct created by the professors of each class, I have found the insights, discussions, and perspectives of my professors and classmates to be invaluable. I am thankful for the opportunity to share my writing with my classmates and in turn have them share their writing with me. It allows me to see that I am not alone in the writing process; moreover, I learn and become better through their praise of my work and constructive criticism. While I would love an intimate writing circle with whom I could sit with for hours in cafes and discuss the deepest aspects of writing, I am thankful for my husband and my professors and classmates.

My three most important writing habits by Danielle Swanson

1. Read, read, read. In On Writing, Stephen King tells future writers that they need to read and goes on to say he reads about 52 books a year. At the time I read the book, I had a semi-obsession with King, and while that has waned, the importance of his advice has not. As a writer, I think my most important habit is to read, and it's one I stick to daily. I try to read a book a week; sometimes I get in more, sometimes less.

While I am in school, I am usually forced to read whatever I am assigned, and seeing as I take a full load, this is usually about my quota of reading ability. However, when I have breaks, I indulge in my favorite genre - chick lit - the stuff I want to write. This let's me have a clearer understanding of what is being done in the genre and helps me to see how other authors work. I think one cannot learn to write humor, to write tragedy, to write, well, anything, until one has read that type of work, and the more I read of it, the better writer I become.

2. Making my writing important. In my past life, I was a journalist, and as a journalist, I got to do a lot of cool things. Perhaps one of the coolest things I did was interview country-music artist Cledus T. Judd, who, for those of you who aren't familar with him, sings such hits as, "I Love NASCAR" and "She's Got a Butt Bigger than the Beatles."Anyways, during the interview, Judd said something that has forever changed my life. (Yes, that sentence really says Cledus T. Judd changed my life.) Anyways, he was talking about how he became famous, and he said, "If you really want to be successful, you have to be willing to give everything else up." I'll never forget that moment. It was like an ephiany for me.

It was nothing big, words I had probably heard before, and as Judd went on to explain how for him this meant leaving behind his friends and family and work long hours and touring the country, all I could think about was what this meant for me. If I want to be a successful writer, I have to be willing to give up a clean house and a gourmet dinner. I have to be willing to give up afternoon lunches and Saturdays at the lake. I have to be willing to give up sleep and those early morning hours when the bed is so comfortable.

Okay, so I'll admit, sometimes I'm not willing to give these things up. But the point is that if I want to be a good writer, I have to make my writing the most important thing and to put those other things aside. It's easy to say writing is just a hobby, but if that was the attitude I took, than writing would be just a hobby.

Instead, I gave up my career and came back to school here. And I've worked out a schedule that allows me to etch out at least a chapter a month, hopefully more during the summer, and that has scheduled in writing - the kind I want to do in addition to the kind I have to do - in order to remember that writing is important.

3. Planning and plotting. When I entered this program, my writing floundered around, jumping from one plot to another. I was constantly told to outline but couldn't do it to save my life. I'd create those giant Roman numeral monstrosities, only to have them sit idly for months afterward.

However, since I was reading so much, I began to see a trend in the things I read. Each chapter served a unique purpose in the story: the purposes were not always the same, but there was a reason for every action. I began to see how stories moved along, and I began to understand what exactly my teachers were asking of me.

Even though I am still largely a "seater" when it comes to writing, I now have at least a general concept before I go in. I don't plan out each detail and am never quite sure what will happen between my characters, but I do know what needs to happen in each chapter to make it to the end. The book I'm working on now is like a long road-trip and each of the little towns written out, I just don't know what the gas stations or billboards will look like along the way. I'm excited to take the journey and can't wait to get to the destination.

Blog 2 - Jessica Q

Picking just three important writing friends is so hard for me. There are so many who help me in my writing with my work, but for this, I’ve narrowed it down only to my current writing project and the three most important people, or even a group of people, to share with you.

First I would have to list my “Book Group,” consisting of: Anne Richards, Karen Pressley, Sandy Simpson, Barbara Reed, Laurence Stacey. Each of us are working on a book project, and since our first meeting, two of us have agents in place to pursue publication of our work. We get together once a month to workshop one members most recent work toward their book project, and the feedback is remarkable. This group is also a key to my success in that it pushes me to get my writing done and not slack off, so that I’m ready when it is my turn. We just met on Saturday, though a few were unable to make it, and the advice for my latest chapter was spot on. I’m so grateful for them and it is birthed out of my time at KSU.

The next on the list is my client, Terri Blackstock. (pictured) She is an author and when I first started my Master’s degree at KSU she was so encouraging about my stepping from the PR world into the writing world. She loved my book concept and has continued to ask about how my writing is going. I’m also currently representing her for her latest project and the last book we did together we were able to turn into her first New York Times best seller. Terri is the one who gave me the incredible advice years ago when we first worked together: “Don’t get it right, get it written.” I live by those words.

Finally, Wes Yoder, is my friend, mentor, former boss, and now my literary agent. Wes and I go way back in my career and he and I have always had a dream of writing books. We made that dream a reality for many of our clients, but for us, it would take a bit longer. Amazingly, this fall I’ve been hired to do PR for Wes’ first book—out in October—Bond of Brothers. And as of last month, he is officially my agent and has given me some notes on fixes to my book proposal. Wes would also like another chapter (what I’m currently writing) and will begin pitching my book in the late summer/early fall to Christian publishing houses. I’m so thankful for Wes and it is exciting to move into this new element of our friendship.